


Haven't You Noticed Me Drifting?

by hisfirstnameisagent



Series: Poison and Wine [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, Hurts So Good, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2000700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisfirstnameisagent/pseuds/hisfirstnameisagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes has never been good with emotions. His experience at the Hydra base only makes it even worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haven't You Noticed Me Drifting?

"I'm turning into you."

Bucky cringes. Okay, so _maybe_ he shouldn't have that said that. Yeah, Steve hadn't appeared to be too upset at the words, but still, he feels bad. And yet, a part of him doesn't really feel all that bad. Who the hell does Steve think he is? Waltzing around in that damn new body of his, looking like a god, while Bucky just sits on the sidelines. God, he can hear Steve laughing in the next room with the rest of the guys. Why does he deserve to be happy?

Bucky scowls behind his glass of scotch, the alcohol burning his throat.

And Peggy? Don't even get him started. Years of trying to set him up with dates, and Steve just suddenly ups and decides that he wants to be with Peggy of all people? Peggy with her curves, and those red lips and soft skin. Hell, Bucky has seen plenty of women with all three of those things. Dames like her are a dime a dozen. And Steve even has the gall to flirt with her in front of him, the bastard. Where did he even learn that from? He's pretty sure he's never seen Steve speak to a woman other than his own mother.

Bucky grips his glass tighter. The bartender eyes him warily.

Peggy doesn't deserve Steve. She doesn't. Steve is...well, he's everything. He's who Bucky thinks of when he wakes up in the morning and who he thinks of when he goes to sleep at night. Steve is the sun; memories of a young, scrawny boy trying to keep up with Bucky as he ran across the school-yard on a bright sunny day, sweat pooling down both their faces. Steve is the rain; a flash of thunder and lightning outside their apartment, Steve drawing on the fogged-up window and Bucky saying, "Don't, you'll leave damn marks on the thing." Steve is a drunken night; memories of a chaste kiss, so light it might has well have been a dream and it was according to Bucky the next day, shoving past Steve who was so adamant that it was definitely a thing that happened and that they should probably talk about it and "Steve, just stop." Steve is hope; experiments and poking and prodding and 'Sergeant James Barnes 32557', over and over and over, and then suddenly those blue eyes and pretty lips are in front of him again and maybe he'll get through this.

The glass shatters in his hands. Everyone in the room turns to stare, a mixture of horror and curiosity.

Bucky's pretty sure that the shards cutting into his hands should hurt, but they're nothing compared to what his mind is doing to him. Ever since the Hydra base, things have been different. He's not sure what they did to him. It's all a blur of sleepless nights and needles, but one thing is for certain and that's that he isn't the same person he was before they strapped him into that chair.

Bucky glances around, leering at the people staring. "What?" he snaps. "This ain't a goddamn picture show!"

He's angry, _so_ angry all of the time and he just wants to punch someone so hard that he can feel the bone shatter beneath his fist. He gets that feeling around Steve a lot and he wishes it would go away. He loves Steve, he really does, always has, but the new Steve isn't his Steve anymore and _god_ , he's so furious about it. Suddenly, everyone loves Captain America. Bucky wonders how many women good ol' Cap has kissed since he was the given the super soldier serum. He wonders if they left lipstick stains on his skin; bets that Steve even had the decency to ask their name before he took them to bed.

Bucky stumbles out of the chair. Not from being drunk though. He can't get drunk anymore, not through lack of trying though. He thought about mentioning it to Steve one time, but figured that Captain America has more important things to worry about. But no, it isn't the scotch's fault. Bucky's dizzy with rage and that stupid red dress and "I might actually go dancing" and god, he wants to kill her. He's never wanted to physically harm someone more in his life, not even a nazi, and he knows something is wrong. He can literally _feel_ the red-hot anger coursing through his veins and yes, something is definitely wrong. His emotions are amplified by a thousand and he's suddenly bombarded with images of a dark room and men speaking other languages and that creepy fuck with the glasses. What was his name? Z...Zo...something with a Z. God, it hurts. It hurts so bad.

Bucky finally makes it outside, leaning against the brick wall and breathing in the cool air.

"Just breathe, you're fine," he tells himself. He knows he's not but he closes his eyes and lets himself pretend for one second that he's back in Brooklyn. It's winter and he's back in Brooklyn and the war never happened. Bucky never signed up for this. He really didn't. He was drafted, but he'd never have the courage to tell Steve that. Steve, who tried five goddamn times to get into the army. Steve was willing to voluntarily give up his life for his country and Bucky was just so damn scared. He didn't want to die and he still doesn't want to. But every day that passes, Bucky feels closer and closer to death and he knows it's inevitable. He's weak, physically and mentally, and he was never meant for this. This is war and men die. All he can do is hold on to the hope that Steve isn't one of those men.

He opens his eyes, relieved to find that he's outside by himself. He deserves to have his mental breakdown in peace, dammit.

Of course, at that moment the door opens a few feet down from him, startling him and he stands up straight, wiping away the tears that he hadn't even known where there. He's covered by the darkness but he can see Steve standing in the doorway, a halo of light around him. He's a goddamn angel, Bucky thinks. Of course he should be with Peggy. She's beautiful and you, you're just some dumb kid from Brooklyn.

"Bucky, I know that's you," Steve calls out to him, but he still hasn't moved away from the door, bracing it open.

"Yeah, so," Bucky answers and he knows he's being childish, but it's hard for him to think coherently enough to form an adult sentence with actual words.

"So come inside," Steve says. "It's cold and I can't have you falling sick."

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?" Bucky isn't sure if what comes out of his mouth is a laugh or a sob.

Steve is quiet, a sharp intake of breath the only noise he makes. Bucky looks away from him, focusing on a broken beer bottle laying a few feet away. The urge to grab it and slash at Steve's face passes quickly, but it still hits Bucky with such force that he cries out, covering his face as his body is racked with sobs. Steve is by his side instantly, a hand carefully landing on his shoulder.

"No!" Bucky protests. "Get away!" He shoves Steve, hard enough to push the man to the ground and he may be significantly taller and at least a hundred and twenty pounds heavier than he once was, but the look on Steve's face is enough to take Bucky back to grade school and having to watch his tiny friend get beat up by older kids.

"Wow," Steve mutters. "I...I didn't think anyone could still do that."

Bucky groans, "God, Steve. I'm, I'm sorry. I don't wanna hurt you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Steve asks, pulling himself up and warily approaching Bucky again. "You've been through a lot, Buck. I can't even imagine what they did to you in that room. I don't want to imagine...hell, I just want them to pay for it."

"Is that all you want Steve?" Bucky asks, before he can stop himself. The tears have stopped now, drying on his face, probably mixing with the dirt on it. He sniffles. God, he needs a shower. It's been a few days at least.

"I-" Steve starts.

Bucky's anger is back and he crowds in on Steve. He can smell the liquor on Steve's breath and god, he needs a drink even more than he needs a shower. But then he remembers that he can't get drunk and that only makes him that much more frustrated.

"Or do you want her?" Bucky asks, a demanding tone in his voice. He walks Steve back until Steve is pressed against the brick wall, Bucky's hands on either side of him. The light from the moon makes it easy enough to make out Steve's face. Bucky huffs a laugh. He's got Captain America pinned against a wall. The guy who's never been too afraid to back down from a fight is suddenly pale-faced and at a lack of words.

"Her," Bucky repeats. "Her with her shiny, brown hair that I bet you just want to run your fingers through." He glances down at Steve's mouth. "And those lips, am I right? How many times a day do you think about those? God, how does she even have the time to worry about cherry red lipstick, let alone even buy any?"

Steve's lips part on a heavy breath and Bucky remembers when he'd lay awake at night, listening for the wheeze of Steve's breath to know that he was okay. Of course, that was a different time. A different Steve. His Steve. Bucky's eyes trace back up to lock onto Steve's. They're full of confusion and something...something Bucky can't quite figure out, but then Steve brings his hand up to grasp Bucky's arm.

"God, Buck" Steve says. "You've gotta know."

Bucky nods, though he's not sure why because he really doesn't know. Steven Rogers has always been a mystery to him. A horrible, goddamn mystery of a skinny punk and blonde hair and blue eyes and a heart of gold and when Bucky looks at him now, none of that's there anymore but somehow, it's still all there and Bucky feels like he's so deattached from the world. He wants to believe that things are the same, but they're not and they never will be. He figures he needs to embrace it, but he doesn't want to. He's crying again and _men don't cry, Barnes, stop it._

"I don't know what they did to me, Steve," he confesses. "But ain't nothing good come out of it."

He brings his arms down and Steve takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around him and Bucky shudders, curling himself around Steve. He hasn't felt this warm since God knows when.

"You're okay," Steve says. "You're gonna be fine. We're gonna be fine." And Bucky can remember saying the same exact thing to Steve when he came down with that fever two years ago. He wasn't sure if he had been trying to comfort himself or Steve at the time, but it worked either way.

"Peggy's gorgeous, but it ain't ever been her," Steve says, almost a whisper against Bucky's ear. "It's always been you."

Bucky lets out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He steps back to take a good look at Steve. The same Steve he's always been and he realizes that the only thing that's really changed is _him_ , Bucky himself. They did something to him at the Hydra base and dammit, he'll deal with that mental breakdown later. Right now, he just wants this moment.

Steve licks his lips and Bucky follows the motion before bringing his mouth to Steve's. The kiss is hot and sweetly anticipated. Bucky's been wanting this for so long. So much longer than he'd care to admit. This is all he needs and all he ever will need. Steve's lip are sin and Bucky is more than glad to willingly partake in it. He's shaking, dammit, and if Steve teases him about it later, he'll just blame it on the cold.

Steve cards his hand through Bucky's hair, tugging on it, earning a soft whimper from Bucky and Bucky can feel Steve smile into the kiss.

 _Punk_ , he thinks, before shoving Steve back into the wall and biting Steve's lower lip. Steve's eyes widen at the sudden change in pace and Bucky pulls away to smirk. He's about to go back in for another kiss when the bar door opens. He pulls back from Steve entirely, trying to distance himself as much as possible. Yeah, there's been talk of queers in the army, but Bucky doesn't doubt that he'd be beaten to a pulp if someone saw him sucking face with another man.

Three guys barge out of the door, stumbling and laughing loudly. They don't even notice the two of them as they walk off, still stumbling about and Bucky's honestly impressed that they even make it twenty feet before one of them falls and has to be hoisted back up by his pals.

Bucky's breathing is harsh and shallow and he looks at Steve, not entirely sure what to do or say. But then Steve laughs and Bucky smiles. It's the most beautiful thing he's heard all day. It almost makes him forget the tiny part of his mind that just wants to kill those men for ruining their moment and Bucky really should tell Steve about that. That part of his mind is more present every day and Bucky hopes that God will have mercy and just let him die before he lives to see himself become a monster.

"C'mon," Steve says, still smiling. "Let's go inside with the rest of the guys."

"But-" Bucky starts.

"Don't worry," Steve tells him, throwing an arm around him and squeezing him tight. "We'll finish this later. In a much more private setting. We've got all the time in the world."

Bucky smiles a small smile. "Yeah, yeah we do."

**Author's Note:**

> Title stolen from The Civil Wars song "Falling", which I listened to on repeat the entire time I wrote this thing. I highly suggest you listen to it because omg it's so beautiful.
> 
> Also, this is my first Stucky fic, so bear with me on the lack of smut and this turned out to be really sad and I'm so sorry.


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